Cross the Line
by sugah66
Summary: Ron and Hermione come to an understanding. SPOILERS FOR HBP. More accurate summary inside. Part 6 in the Made for You series. See author's page for details. COMPLETE. Sorry for the rating change. RH.
1. Harry

**TITLE: Cross the Line  
AUTHOR: Sugah Sugah  
SUMMARY: After Ron is poisoned, he and Hermione come to an understanding about their feud over Lavender. Part 5 in the Ron/Hermione saga.  
SPOILERS: HBP  
PAIRING: Ron/Hermione, obviously  
RATING: K+ -- fine holiday fun  
DISCLAIMER: My name is not JK Rowling. I am in no way affiliated with her, Warner Bros., Scholastic, or Harry Potter. This is purely to satisfy my muse, which was incredibly disappointed that Ron chose Lavender (LAVENDER!) and simply wanted to do something about it.  
AUTHOR'S NOTE: This takes place during chapter 19 ("Elf Tails") of HBP and starts the morning after Ron is poisoned but before Harry has all those fun discussions with Lavender about Ron's feelings. It is told first from Harry's POV, then Hermione's.  
This story is based on the songs "True" by Ryan Cabrera, "Why Don't You Kiss Her" by Jesse McCartney, and "Find a Way" by Loudness.  
EDIT: This had originally been conceived as a one-shot, but I got a request to continue, and who am I to argue with that? Besides, I thought we needed to see Ron's POV here, and also because I think Ron and Hermione should have more of a discussion about what happened. So I separated the story so that each member of the trio had his or her own chapter -- each one based on a different song.  
Also, anyone who read this previously may notice that even the stuff that was here in the original has been edited, so you may want to re-read it.  
There are also four "prequels" to this, and several planned "sequels".**

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Cross the Line

**Part One: Harry**

"_**I've waited all my life to cross this line, to the only thing that's true…" – Ryan Cabrera**_

Harry went to see Ron first thing in the morning. In addition to checking on whether or not he had woken, he had to tell Ron about McLaggen being Keeper in their next Quidditch match. At first, he wasn't certain whether he should tell Ron while he was in this condition – the shock of the news might kill him – but then Harry decided that if he was going to tell him at all, he might as while do it while Madame Pomfrey was nearby.

Several people stopped him in the halls to ask if the rumors were true. Ernie Macmillan seemed most worried about Ron's health, and Seamus had asked if they were positive it wasn't lovesickness, but most of the others just wanted to know if it was a deliberate attack, like Katie's had been. He couldn't believe that more people weren't worried about this, simply because Ron had been in the Potions master's room at the time. Didn't they know that he had drunk a glass of mead specifically poured by the Potions master? It wasn't as though he had accidentally swallowed something in a glass vial from one of the shelves. Even after the many discussions he and the other Weasleys had held the previous night, Harry was still no closer to finding out what had happened. But he knew it had something to do with the cursed necklace that had hurt Katie.

Hermione was asleep next to Ron's bed when Harry wandered into the hospital wing. At first, Harry was surprised. He had walked Hermione back to the Gryffindor dormitories the night before and saw her walk up to bed. Was it possible she had sneaked out during the night and popped in while everyone else was gone?

He wandered over to her. She had folded her arms on top of the sheets and was resting her head on her arms; her mouth hung open slightly, and there was a small puddle of drool on the blanket. He shook her gently. "Hermione?"

She woke with a start and immediately looked at Ron. It took a moment for her to realize that it wasn't Ron who had spoken. She looked at Harry. "Oh, Harry," she said, clearly disappointed. "Good morning."

"Have you been here all night?" Harry asked, one eyebrow raised. He didn't even bother to ask how she had managed to sneak down without being caught – his invisibility cloak was folded up on the floor beside her chair. This was a most interesting, though admittedly not unexpected, turn of events.

Hermione nodded. "I couldn't sleep. I kept having these horrible dreams and I… I just had to make sure that he was all right."

Harry looked at Ron, who was still sound asleep and snoring, then turned back to Hermione. "Did he wake up at all?"

"No," she said. "I don't think so, anyway."

She looked a wreck, and Harry could tell that even being beside Ron and having constant reassurance that he was, in fact, alive, had not helped her sleep any. He sighed. "Hermione, you should go get some breakfast." He didn't want to say that she looked awful; he had more tact than that.

"But if he wakes up – " she said, chewing on her nails.

"Then I'll be here," said Harry. "You really should eat something – besides your fingernails." He tried to laugh, but it just wouldn't come out, and it didn't look like it would have done Hermione any good anyway.

Hermione whimpered and nodded, skulking out of the room while casting frequent glances at Ron over her shoulder, as though she expected him to wake up in the few seconds before she left the hospital wing.

Actually, it took Ron another ten minutes to come out of it, and he seemed very surprised at both finding Harry standing over him, peering into his face, and being in the hospital wing in the first place.

"You all right there, mate?" Harry asked, when he saw that Ron was awake.

Ron looked extremely confused. His eyes darted about the room nervously. "Er, what's going on?"

Harry explained what had happened – everything from the Chocolate Cauldrons spiked with Romilda Vane's love potion to the poisoned oak-matured mead Professor Slughorn had given them. Ron seemed more upset with the thought of mooning over Romilda Vane than he did with the thought of being poisoned, though he did ask Harry if he thought Slughorn was behind the whole thing.

"I don't think so," said Harry, taking Hermione's abandoned chair by Ron's bed. "He seemed surprised by everything." He paused for a second, gauging Ron's reaction. "Ginny reckons the poison was meant for Dumbledore."

Ron's eyebrows disappeared into his hair. "Why?"

"The mead was supposed to be Dumbledore's Christmas present, but Slughorn kept it."

"Maybe someone's trying to poison Slughorn," Ron said.

Harry shook his head. "We've already thought of that, but we couldn't think of anyone who might want to poison him, or why they would." He paused again, turning over the events of the previous night in his mind, trying to remember what else he, Hermione, Ginny, Fred, and George had discussed. Then his and Hermione's conversation with Hagrid popped into his head. "Oh! I almost forgot."

He told Ron everything that Hagrid had told them about Snape and Dumbledore's argument, but Ron didn't seem to think it was that big of a deal either. "Well, Snape's bound to get tired of being a spy, right? I mean, that can't be easy."

Harry couldn't believe his ears. This was Snape they were talking about – a teacher loathed by the majority of the student body, and no one was willing to believe that maybe, just maybe, he could be on the wrong side. Why wouldn't anyone listen to him? These weren't just paranoid delusions because he didn't like Snape and Malfoy; something strange was definitely going on between those two, and no one believed him.

Ron looked anxiously around the room. "Hermione not come to see me, then?" he asked, in what Harry supposed was to be a casual way. His voice quickly turned bitter. "Of course not," he said. "She's probably off snogging Krum or McLaggen or some other ruddy Quidditch player."

Harry had had quite enough. This row between Ron and Hermione had to stop. He chose not to point out that Ron himself was a "ruddy Quidditch player" and also that if it weren't for Hermione, he wouldn't have even made the team – though Harry would never have let McLaggen play Keeper if he hadn't been desperate. "Don't take this the wrong way, mate," Harry said, hoping that he didn't sound as irritated as he thought he did, "but are you trying to be the world's biggest git, or does it just come naturally?"

The look on Ron's face was priceless. It was halfway between shock and fury, and if Harry hadn't been so angry with him, he might have found it funny. "Why am I the git?" Ron asked. "She's the one off snogging famous Quidditch – "

"At least she didn't do it in front of you all the time," said Harry. "Which, by the way, I've been meaning to talk to you about. And it was two years ago, Ron. You can't be mad at her for something she might have done two years ago."

Ron's face was almost the same color as his hair. "You said you thought – "

"I thought, Ron," Harry said, this time purposely pumping exasperation into his tone. "But I don't really know. And I'm not about to ask Hermione about it. If she wanted to snog Krum, that's her business. It's not ours."

"But – but Ginny said – "

"Ginny was just mad at you for telling off her and Dean." Harry's insides squirmed uncomfortably as he thought about that confrontation by the portrait hole. He was personally glad Ron had told them off, but that was what had started this whole mess. "And anyway, Hermione was here all night. She's only not here now because I made her go eat some breakfast. She looked terrible."

Ron flushed, if possible, even darker. "She was here all night?"

"Yes, you prat," said Harry. "She couldn't sleep. She kept having nightmares." Harry groaned loudly. "Sheesh, you two. Why don't you just shag and get it over with?"

Ron sputtered indignantly. "What – what are you… I don't – I don't know what you're talking about," he said, though Harry noticed that he didn't look him in the eye as he said that, and his ears were a brilliant shade of pink.

Harry couldn't help but grin. "Oh, so that wasn't Hermione's name you moaned in your sleep last night?"

All the color drained out of Ron's face.

"Oh, don't worry, mate," Harry said, still smiling. He had known for quite some time that both Hermione and Ron fancied each other, but they didn't seem to realize it. It was driving him mad. "I don't think anyone else realized what you were saying. Trust me, Fred and George would have said something about it if they had."

Ron buried his face in his hands. "Oy, Fred and George heard it?" He groaned into his hands. Then he suddenly looked up. "Hang on, what were they doing here?"

Harry stared incredulously at Ron. "You were poisoned, you daft git. They came to make sure you were okay." He nodded at their birthday gift to Ron, which still sat – unopened – on the bedside table. "And to wish you a happy birthday."

"Oh, excellent!" Ron said, when he caught sight of the package. He pulled it onto his lap and began ripping off the paper. "Cool!" he said, when he had opened it. He pulled a quill out of the box. "It's one of their Spell-Check Quills. This'll help with my essays!"

Harry grinned. "Can't ask Hermione for help, then."

Ron flushed pink but said nothing. Harry sometimes thought that Ron did so poorly on purpose, just so Hermione would help him with his homework. Ron loudly cleared his throat and made a big deal about his new quill. "Can't wait to try it out," he said, but he didn't sound as enthusiastic as he had before.

They sat in silence for a while, and Harry debated telling Ron that McLaggen would play Keeper during the match against Hufflepuff. With the way he felt about McLaggen – especially after Hermione had taken him to Slughorn's Christmas party instead of Ron – Harry wasn't sure it was wise to get Ron all riled up so soon after being poisoned. But he should tell him soon or Ron would surely hear it from someone else, and Harry wanted the news to come from him.

He had just opened his mouth to say something when Ron asked, "Er, Lavender doesn't know I'm here, does she?"

Harry shrugged. He certainly hadn't told her. She'd still been asleep when Harry went down for breakfast that morning, because he wanted to come up to the hospital wing and check on Ron as soon as possible. "She must know by now," Harry said. "It's all over the school."

Ron brightened slightly at that. "It is?"

"Yeah," said Harry, nodding. "I expect you'll want to hit Seamus when you're feeling up to it."

"Why?" Ron asked, his eyes narrowing. "What did that prat say?"

Harry shook his head. "Doesn't matter. But you'll want to hit him."

"I'm surprised she hasn't come to see me yet," Ron said, collapsing on his pillows. It took Harry a moment to realize that Ron was talking about Lavender and not Hermione. "She asked me the other night why I wasn't wearing my Christmas present." He made a face, and Harry had to stifle his laughter. "Can you actually see me wearing that thing?"

"Oh, but Won-Won," Harry said, fluttering his eyelashes in a spot-on impression of Lavender, "you're my sweetheart! Why wouldn't you want the whole school to know?"

Ron snarled and hurled one of his pillows at Harry and missed by a mile – a remarkable feat, considering Harry was sitting less than a foot from his bed. "Nice aim, Won-Won," said Harry. "Good thing you're Keeper and not Chaser, or we'd lose every match."

Ron's face fell, and Harry immediately cursed himself for having brought up the subject of Quidditch. Now the whole McLaggen discussion would be unavoidable. "I expect you'll have to find a replacement," Ron said, sounding so pathetic that Harry felt like killing himself. "I guess I won't be able to play for a while."

Harry coughed. "I, er, already found a replacement."

"Not McLaggen?" Ron asked, though from the tone of his voice he knew what the answer would be.

"He was the next best after you," Harry said, trying to sound sympathetic. It wasn't that difficult; he really did feel sorry for Ron. "I had to pick someone. We play Hufflepuff next week, and he'll need to start practicing with the team."

"I guess," Ron said, still sounding thoroughly dejected.

"Look, mate," said Harry, "it's just temporary. I don't want that git on the team any more than you do, but we'll need a Keeper. Just use it as an incentive to get better, so you can wipe that smarmy smile off his face."

Ron huffed. "Hermione will probably want to snog him even more," he said, "now that he's the Gryffindor Keeper."

Harry grabbed Ron's discarded pillow and smacked him upside the head with it. "Will you shut it? Just tell her you fancy her and be done with it!"

Ron ripped the pillow out of Harry's hands and threw it at him again, and again, he missed. "I do not fancy Hermione!"

Harry rolled his eyes, then laid back and jerked around, imitating Ron the previous night. "Er-my-nee," he said, tossing his head back and forth. When he sat up, Ron was scowling at him. "Pretty obvious, mate. I mean, you weren't calling my name in your sleep."

"Me and Hermione," Ron said, shaking his head. He sighed and looked at Harry. "Don't you think it would be weird?"

Harry laughed. Ron and Hermione had fancied each other for so many years that Harry had long ago gotten used to the idea. Granted, it had taken him a while to get used to it, but he had come to terms with it eventually. He had a sneaking suspicion that they fought so often because there were so mad for each other that they needed somewhere for all that energy to go "Weird? I think it's brilliant."

Ron looked incredulous. "You don't think it's weird?"

"I guess I'm just so used to the idea of you two being desperately in love with each other," Harry said, lifting one shoulder in a barely perceptible shrug. He paused, narrowing his eyes. "Why? Do you think it would be weird?"

Ron wouldn't look him in the eye. "I mean, it's me and Hermione. We've been friends for so long, I just don't think we could…"

"Cross the line?" Harry asked, finishing Ron's statement. Ron nodded. "That's bollocks, Ron. You and Hermione are made for each other. You two row like an old married couple. If you don't fancy her, you're pretty good at faking it."

A disgusted tutting noise behind him made Harry turn, and he saw that Hermione had returned. Eating had done her a world of good; she looked much better than she had that morning, except for the scowl on her face.

"I'll just go then, shall I?" she asked, her voice curt, and Harry suddenly realized – she thought they were talking about Lavender.

Desperate to prevent another fight from breaking out, Harry leapt out of the chair and hurried over to Hermione. "Hermione!" he said, a little too loudly than was natural. He grabbed her by the elbow and dragged her over to Ron's bed. She went with minimal struggle. "Good. You can keep Ron company. I've got to, er, talk to the team. About Saturday."

Hermione sat down in the chair as primly as possible, turning her nose up slightly. She said nothing.

Harry coughed uncomfortably. "Er, yeah." He looked at Ron, who was facing away from Hermione, his arms folded defiantly across his chest. "See you later, mate. I'll be back after lunch."

He turned around and left, the silence looming heavily behind him. As he shut the door behind him, he wondered if both of them would be alive when he returned.


	2. Hermione

**Part Two: Hermione**

**_"Oh, I'm so afraid to make that first move. Just a touch and we could cross the line…" – Jesse McCartney_**

Ron refused to look at her, and Hermione could feel the tears welling up again. She blinked them away; she had certainly cried enough since yesterday. As soon as she had learned what had happened, she had raced up to the hospital room, almost sick with worry. She barely listened as Harry and Ginny discussed who they thought was behind it all, and she hadn't been able to take her eyes off Ron while he lie in bed, looking very much like the little boy with dirt on his nose she had met on the Hogwarts Express five years ago.

"You better not stay too long," Ron said, and the malice in his voice made her eyes sting with tears once more. "I expect Lavender will be along soon, and you know how she gets when we're alone together."

Hermione gave a hearty sniff, forcing the tears back into her eyes. She resisted the urge to tell him that Lavender bloody Brown wouldn't be coming to see him any time today, as Hermione had informed her that he wasn't allowed to have any visitors until tomorrow morning at the very earliest. Part of her felt guilty for lying – she was keeping Lavender from seeing her sick boyfriend, after all – but it was a very small part, especially when Lavender had responded with, "Oh, but my Won-Won will need me to get better!"

In addition to making Hermione extremely nauseous, that statement had washed much of the guilt away.

"You're looking well," she said, her tone businesslike and formal. It wasn't a total lie; he did have a lot more color in his cheeks than the night before. She purposely ignored his statement about Lavender.

"Thanks," Ron said brusquely.

Her heart broke that their friendship had been reduced to this. He had almost died, and they were still sitting here, mad at each other. At first, she hadn't even known why the fight had started in the first place; one day, for quite unknown reasons, Ron had just started acting like a great sodding git. When Ginny confessed to telling Ron about Hermione kissing Viktor, everything had become clear. She'd been mad at Ron for a long time after that – mad that he reacted in that manner, mad that he hadn't come to her to get the truth, mad at herself for not telling him sooner, though really it was none of his business. Now, she wasn't really mad so much as hurt. But she'd been unable to sleep last night, thinking of him lying unconscious in the hospital wing. Every time she managed to doze off, she had some horrible nightmare where Ron died in a very gruesome manner. Eventually, she had crawled out of bed, sneaked into the boys' dormitories, nicked Harry's cloak, and sneaked down to the hospital wing, so that she could see for herself that Ron wasn't dead.

But he may as well have been, the way they were acting. Before, she'd wanted Ron to realize the error of his ways and leave Lavender. Now she was just glad that he was alive. She didn't know what she would have done if he hadn't made it to the hospital wing in time. She didn't even want to think about it. Best to think of something else.

She glanced around the room, looking at everything but Ron, and her eyes came to rest on the quill sitting on the bedside table. "New quill?" she asked.

Ron nodded. "Birthday gift from Fred and George."

Hermione bit the inside of her cheek. She had also gotten him a present for his birthday, but she hadn't yet given it to him. Truth be told, she wasn't entirely sure she even wanted to give it to him; he'd been such a prat lately, and she didn't think he deserved it. She'd bought it ages ago, back in Diagon Alley when they'd done their shopping to buy all their Hogwarts things, and was certain that he'd like it – it was from one of those Daydream Charms from Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes. He'd been so upset when Fred and George made him pay and he couldn't afford half of the stuff he wanted, so she bought him one. She'd been storing it in her trunk since August and then he had started snogging Lavender. Everything had gone downhill from there.

She wasn't quite sure when she had first realized that she fancied Ron, but she had fancied him for a while now and was simply waiting for him to make the first move. After spending much of the summer with alone with him, she thought that they had finally started taking the first steps toward a relationship. But apparently, she was wrong, and she wasn't about to cross the line before Ron discovered that he had feelings for her as well, or she would make a fool out of herself. She knew that Ron returned her feelings but wouldn't admit it; there was no other logical explanation for the way he acted when she mentioned other boys – or even when she spent some alone time with Harry. Harry! As if she could ever be interested in Harry in that way. He was like her brother.

Watching Ron snog Lavender was like having her heart ripped out repeatedly, and the horrid thing was that Ron didn't seem to realize what he was doing to her! Hermione sometimes wondered if Ron was being an insensitive prat on purpose or if that was just part of his personality. At first, she'd assumed that he started his snog-fests with Lavender to make her jealous – to get her back for kissing Viktor – but she had no idea why it had continued for so long. She was obviously jealous; she'd barely spoken to, or even looked at, either of them since they had started "dating". She wouldn't even consider what they did dating, really. All they did was snog, although Lavender wasn't exactly a private person, and Hermione had a feeling that she was more vested in their sham of a relationship than Ron was.

After a while, she could stand it no longer. She burst into tears. "Oh, Ron!" she said, throwing her arms around him. "I was so worried! All anyone would tell me was that you were in the hospital wing, and then Harry said that you'd been poisoned, and – "

She couldn't finish. She was practically choking on her sobs. She cried into Ron's shoulder and after a bit, she felt his arms go around her.

His arms felt safe, and she felt protected, but most of all, the whole thing felt right. Oh, why couldn't Ron see that this was how they were supposed to be? Why did have to be such a git and continue his farce of a relationship with someone he didn't really care about, when Hermione was right here?

"It's all right, 'Mione," he said, stroking her hair. "I'm fine, see? Nothing to worry about."

Her breath caught in her throat. Had he just called her 'Mione? She couldn't remember him having ever done that before. It had to mean something. But what could it possibly mean? Did it mean that he was sorry? Did it mean that he had feelings for her? Or was she just reading too much into something as simply as Ron shortening her name? But she loved the way it sounded; it sounded like "mine".

She hiccoughed and pulled away, wiping her eyes with the back of her hand. "I'm sorry," she said. She forced out a laugh. "I'm being silly."

Ron averted his eyes. "It's not silly to be worried about a friend," he said. And was it her imagination, or was his voice several pitches lower than it usually was? It sounded so…sexy. She ought to feel scandalized for thinking of Ron as sexy, especially when he was spoken for, but it was only Lavender bloody Brown, and she had a right to feel however she chose to feel, thank you very much. "And anyway," he said, still not meeting her gaze, "now you know how I felt last year after the…after the Department of Mysteries."

Hermione cocked her head to the side. "What do you mean?"

He glanced at her, and they locked eyes. "I thought you were dead."

The simple declaration needed no further explanation. Hermione gave him a teary-eyed smile and slid away, back into the chair. She dropped her eyes to his arms, which were peppered with thin scars from where the brain had attacked him. She lightly ran her finger along one, and bit back a smile as he shivered. "Did it hurt?"

Ron sucked in a sharp breath and put on a brave sort of face, shaking his head. "Nah. Nothing I can't handle, you know."

She smiled as shyly as possible. "Well, then. I guess now we're even."

He blinked several times, as though trying to understand what she was talking about. After a few moments, he coughed and nodded. "Yeah. I guess we are."

She glanced away. "Are you still mad at me?"

Ron pulled his head back in surprise, then leaned forward conspiratorially. "You didn't really like McLaggen, did you?" Hermione made a noise of disgust in the back of her throat, which seemed to be a good enough response for Ron. "I didn't think so," he said. "But then why did you take him to Slughorn's Christmas party?"

Hermione raised her eyebrows. "I didn't have much of a choice, as my first choice for a date has a girlfriend who would not have appreciated it."

He gave her a guilty half-grin. "Oh. Right."

She tried again, having not really gotten the answer she wanted. "I can't stand not being your friend, Ron. You're not mad at me, are you?"

Ron shook his head slowly. "No. I'm not mad at you. I guess I never was mad at you." He paused, as though he was about to say more. But he turned to her, looking almost frightened. "Are you mad at me?"

"I…" She trailed off. She wanted to tell him just how mad she was – how hurt he had made her. But this was what she really wanted, to be talking to him again. Rehashing the past few months would only make matters worse, and she didn't want to dredge everything up while he was in the hospital wing. It didn't seem right. "No," she said at last. "I'm not. Anymore."

"Okay then," Ron said, nodding once. "We're agreed. We're not mad at each other anymore."

Hermione's smiled. "Agreed."

Ron folded his arms behind his head and sank against his pillows. "So, what did I miss?"


	3. Ron

**Part Three: Ron**

**_"I'll find a way, someday, to get right back to you. Find the time, cross the line, make all your dreams come true…" – Loudness_**

Ron knew he had gotten off easy with Hermione. After everything he had done to her, the way he had treated her, he had expected her to row at him for a good solid hour. But they spent most of the morning talking about stupid stuff, like they used to before…before Lavender. It almost seemed like the past few months had never happened – that he hadn't found out she'd snogged that grouchy git, Krum, that he hadn't gone and snogged Lavender, that they hadn't not been speaking to each other ever since. But deep in the back of his mind, Ron knew that the past few months had happened, and, realistically, they would eventually have to face it.

But not now. For now, they sat and laughed like the good friends they were. Ron knew it couldn't last; it would be wishful thinking, to think that Hermione would let him get away with what he'd done for very long, but for the moment he was rather enjoying the way she was lavishing attention on him for once, and not Harry. She got him water and fluffed his pillow and touched his arm in a way she hadn't before, and when Harry got back later, they all discussed what had happened. It was just like old times.

And then Lavender showed up.

Oh, god. Lavender. He had almost forgotten about Lavender. He didn't know how he could have forgotten about her. She was permanently attached to him anymore. It was all he could do to get away from her for five minutes to catch his breath. He liked a snog as much as anyone, but that was all they did anymore. They never talked, she never asked him any questions, they didn't have anything in common. He was beginning to wonder why she had wanted to be with him in the first place, because he had forgotten why he was with her.

"Won-Won!"

Merlin, but he hated that nickname. It was ten times worse than that ridiculous necklace she'd given to him for Christmas. It was humiliating how she insisted on calling him that in front of his friends, especially in front of Hermione. Hermione made a face and raised an eyebrow, turning to share a knowing look with Harry. Ron furrowed his brow, wondering just how often Harry and Hermione had talked about him and Lavender.

Lavender ran over to him, almost knocking Hermione off her chair, and threw her arms around him. She was squeezing him so hard he couldn't breathe, although that could have been her perfume. She always wore too much perfume. One time he'd asked her if that was because she hadn't showered and she'd pouted for two days. "I was so worried about you!"

"Lav – " Ron said, practically gasping out the word. She wanted him to call her "Lav-Lav", but he just couldn't bring himself to do it.

She ignored him. "No one would tell me anything! All anyone said was that you were in the hospital wing and no one told me anything!"

Harry rolled his eyes. "That's because we didn't know anything." He muttered in under his breath, but Ron got the feeling that he wasn't trying to be subtle about it.

"We're supposed to, Harry, didn't you know that?" Hermione asked, the corners of her lips tugging upwards in the trace hint of a smile. But then she looked at Lavender and her expression faded into one of obvious contempt.

"No," said Harry. The contempt was obvious in his tone, too. "I don't know anything, remember?"

Ron swallowed hard. He knew he'd been spending a lot of time with Lavender lately, but was it really as bad as this, that Hermione and Harry couldn't even stand to see him and Lavender together. Maybe it was because, at least until Christmas, Ron had spent every spare second with Lavender, generally glued to her lips…or some other part of her anatomy. Maybe it was because he generally ignored his friends to spend time with her. Maybe it was because he had treated Hermione so horribly just because she may have kissed some guy two years ago.

"We'll just be going then, yeah, Ron?" said Hermione. She stood so fast that she pushed her chair back, grabbed Harry by the elbow, and yanked him to his feet.

Ron panicked and threw Hermione a pleading look. He really didn't want her to leave. They had just started talking again, things were just getting back to normal, and then Lavender had to show up and ruin everything. She was always ruining everything. He was always ruining everything. For once, he didn't want anything to be ruined. And the last thing he wanted to do was spend time alone with Lavender. She was already suffocating him – literally. "You don't have to leave."

Lavender sat down in Hermione's vacated chair, barely giving Hermione enough time to move out of the way. "Bye," she said. She offered up a wave but didn't look at Harry and Hermione as they made their way across the room.

Harry turned to wave before he slipped out the door, mouthing the word, "Later," as he did. Hermione gave him a half-hearted smile and a pathetic wave, then followed Harry out the door. The sound of a door slamming shut had never sounded as ominous as it did just then. Now Ron was alone with Lavender, which he'd actually been managing to avoid for over two weeks now. The thought of being alone with her, even in the hospital wing – which was hardly private – was nauseating.

"Hey, Lav," Ron said.

Lavender narrowed her eyes at him. "What was she doing here?"

He didn't have to ask who Lavender meant by "she". It was painfully obvious. Ron knew that Lavender had a problem with Hermione, but he didn't know why she was being so catty about it. Ron hadn't spoken to Hermione in months. They weren't friendly towards each other, but they were still friends. Lavender couldn't honestly expect Ron to completely cut out his friends just because he was dating her. And if she did, she was even more boneheaded than he thought.

"She's my friend, Lav," he said. He settled back against his pillows, which could use fluffing again, but he wasn't about to ask Lavender to do it. He was slightly surprised she didn't automatically do it. She was always doing things like that. Funny, how he'd never really liked things like that until it was Hermione doing them.

"She told me you weren't allowed to have visitors until tomorrow," she said, and her eyes were beginning to fill with tears. He braced himself for one of her world-famous tantrums as her bottom lip began to quiver in what should have been a very enticing way but was really just pathetic.

Ron raised an eyebrow. "Then why are you here?"

Lavender huffed dramatically. "Why was she here?"

"It doesn't really matter, does it?" Ron asked, frantically scrambling to think of something to distract Lavender before she started to row at him that didn't involve snogging, because he really didn't think he was all that up for a snog at the moment. Also because the girl he really fancied a snog with had been pretty much thrown out of the hospital wing by his hag of a girlfriend.

Why was he with Lavender? He didn't even really like her. He thought he would grow to like her, that he would find something about her that was at least tolerable, but the more time he spent with her the more he realized that they had absolutely nothing in common except sticking their tongues down each other's throats, and that really got boring after a while. He couldn't believe he was saying that, and the other guys – Seamus in particular – would take the mickey out of him later (of course, Seamus was already on his short list – Harry had told him about that lovesick comment), but having a solely physical relationship really wasn't all it was cracked up to be. Or maybe Ron just wasn't the type of person who could handle a relationship that was all about sex, or in his case lack thereof. Maybe Ron wanted something more. And maybe he wanted it with someone who was not his girlfriend.

Thankfully, Madame Pomfrey showed up not long after and shooed Lavender out of the hospital wing, claiming that Ron had suffered a terrible ordeal and needed his rest. Lavender blew him a kiss and scampered for the door. Ron was sorely tempted to thank Madame Pomfrey for her splendid timing, but then she shoved a spoonful of very foul-tasting medicine down his throat, which he choked on.

That night, he dreamed about Hermione. His usual dream, only this time it involved her having her with him on his hospital bed while Madame Pomfrey was in her office at the other end of the room. When he woke up the next morning, he wished he had his wand with him. He needed to do a cleaning charm.

Hermione came to see him early, and she brought him food – a couple of slices of toast and some bits of sausage, which he inhaled in about three seconds, he was so hungry. The food in the hospital wing consisted of oatmeal and other such nutritious foods, because Madame Pomfrey was convinced it was good for the healing process.

"Ron," Hermione said, in a quiet voice, as she looked around the room, "we need to talk."

Ron froze halfway through his last sausage link. He'd known it was too good to be true. He knew he'd gotten off easy with Hermione. Now here was the row he'd been expecting since the day before. "I s'pose," Ron said, his mouth full of sausage, and bits of it sprayed out of his mouth as he spoke.

"We didn't really talk yesterday," she said, taking the seat directly beside his bed, which was sadly much too far away. She'd pulled it closer the day before, but now it was too far away. "And we need to talk, Ron. I can't just let this go. Not after… Not after the way you hurt me."

He opened his mouth to say something, to apologize, to tell her whatever the bloody hell she wanted to hear so that they could forget this whole nasty incident, but she wouldn't let him speak. "You hurt me, Ron. You really hurt me. And that isn't something I can just forget. It's going to take a lot of time, and – "

"I'm sorry, Hermione," he said.

The apology obviously caught Hermione off guard. She sputtered for a few minutes before settling back against the chair. "Well, you should be."

He nodded emphatically. "I am. I didn't mean to hurt you. I never meant to hurt you. Please understand that."

She sighed. "I do, Ron. I do."

They sat in silence for a while, and Ron prayed that it wasn't too late, that he hadn't completely lost his chance to be with Hermione. He wanted Hermione – she was all he wanted. And he would do anything to make that happen. Someday it would happen. Someday the two of them would cross the line between friends and…something more.

"Seamus set his hair on fire," Hermione said after a bit. Ron stared at her, and she continued. "He was trying to multiply his quill, and he flicked his wrist wrong and set his hair on fire."

Ron grinned. "Good."

Someday, maybe. Just not today.


End file.
